Crystal Clear
by let's go bother snape
Summary: A year before he volunteered for the 74th Hunger Games, Marvel had it all- perfect friends, perfect family, a perfect love life. But everything fell apart when someone close to him was chosen at the reaping, and he had to face the fact that beneath the surface, all of that was not as flawless as it seemed. Prequel to Water and Gold.


**Hello everyone! I'm sorry it has been so long since publishing anything, but I've been kind of busy with college, and I didn't get the chance to upload my stories over summer break.**

**Anyway, cutting right to the point! This story takes place _before _Water and Gold, and it's told from Marvel's perspective- which means Serena won't be making an appearance (I'll leave that to the sequel, which will be published soon). Still, I hope you like it- and please let me know what you think!**

* * *

I know who it is without even having to open my eyes- there's only one person in this house capable of being this noisy at this time in the morning.

"Rise and shine, Marv!" Crystal shouts, jumping on my bed. "It's r-r-r-reaping daaaaaay!"

I pretend to remain asleep, and when she least expects it, I throw my pillow against her face as hard as I can, causing her to lose her balance and fall butt-first on the floor with a loud thump.

"Morning, Crys," I say, grinning at my sister.

"You're going to pay for that!" she yells, jumping to her feet and throwing herself against me.

We end up rolling on the floor, Crystal screaming at me to _get_ _my fat ass off her_, and kicking me whenever she gets the chance. She's putting up quite a fight, for a thirteen-year-old girl; it has nothing on hand-to-hand combat practice back at the Training Club, though.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" a child's voice, belonging to my brother Jem, who's standing in the doorway, chants. The kid's a bit violence-obsessed.

We don't get to fight for long, because my mother arrives right on cue, alerted by her Mom-radar. "Marvel!" she scolds. "Get off your sister!"

"She started it!" I accuse, bothered by Crystal's triumphant smile.

"You're sixteen, for God's sake! You're too old for this kind of thing!" My mother holds out a neat pile of clothes- my reaping clothes. "Now get dressed before I ground you."

"Okay Mom," I say sheepishly.

My mother leaves the room, closely followed by Jem, who has spent the last two weeks trying to convince her to let him take spear-throwing lessons. My father has agreed, of course. But my mother is still reluctant to let her 'baby' -who's seven, by the way. Quite a big baby, if you ask me- engage in such a dangerous activity. Crystal remains exactly where I left her, smiling knowingly at me.

"You fight like a little girl," she mocks.

"You're one to talk," I reply casually, as I survey the clothes my mother has left for me: a white shirt, black pants and a dark blue tie.

"I _am_ a little girl," Crystal points out. "It's just that some little girls can fight, while others- such as yourself- can't." Her grin widens. "World's not fair, is it?"

I bend down and pinch her muscled arm; Crystal's always been tall, but she's been through a growth spurt in the past months, making her nearly as tall as me- a great accomplishment, if we take into account that I'm 6'3. That, adding to her being true Career material, definitely makes her everything but 'little'. "Are you sure?" I ask, still referring to the 'little girl' part. "You should get your eyes checked, then. What have you been _eating_?"

Crystal doesn't even blink when she replies, "I don't know. Ask your girlfriend. _She_'s the one who took me to that fancy restaurant and ordered… I can't even pronounce it."

This shuts me up. "Go away, Crys," I order.

"No." Crystal crosses her arms stubbornly.

"Fine, then." I take off the t-shirt I slept in. "If you don't mind that I get dressed while you're here…" I motion to pull off my boxers, but before I even manage to grab the waistband, Crystal bolts out of my room, slamming the door behind her and shrieking something about not wanting to get mentally scarred.

I focus back on my clothes; while District 1 is known for encouraging children to get all prepped up for the reaping, I really don't feel like going out looking like I'm attending a wedding; also, Flint would kill me. So I choose to put on a pair of sneakers- the cameras won't focus on my feet, and the shoes I wore last year are too small anyway-, let my tie lose and roll my sleeves up. Besides, girls love it when I dress like this- not that I feel the need to impress anyone. I'm perfectly happy with my current situation.

When I get down for breakfast, my mother is freaking out over the fact that Crystal's dress is too short for her. "Alright, I quit," she exclaims, when she catches sight of my sneakers. "You can go however you feel like to."

"Thanks, Mom." I kiss her playfully on the cheek, getting an amused smile in return, and sit for breakfast.

My father is having coffee, trying to look relaxed, but I know something's bothering him, judging from the crease between his eyebrows. He's usually quite jovial, always making lame jokes- which luckily don't scare off the customers of the family jewelry store- and laughing loudly, but going through reaping day is always tough for him. Not because he's afraid one of us gets picked, but because when he was young he trained for more than ten years, planning on volunteering the year he turned eighteen- which was also the year of the 2nd Quarter Quell.

He thought he had a better chance to succeed, since there were two male tributes, but he wasn't fast enough and ended up being outrun; I guess this really struck him hard, because not even the fact that he met my mother when she was grieving her own sister- who managed to volunteer, and came out second- made him forget his failure. He's not even capable of hiding how much he'd love to have a victor in the family.

I'm halfway through my toast when the doorbell rings. "I'll get it!" Jem runs out of the kitchen, and from the cry of joy I hear a second later, I'd say Flint has just arrived.

My best friend walks into the kitchen, with Jem clinging to his back; I stare amusingly at his shaggy black hair, jeans and lack of tie- as long as I remain friends with Flint, I will never have to be worried about being underdressed.

"Good morning, Mrs. Gould," he greets cheerfully, after putting Jem down and bumping fists with Crystal. "Mr. Gould," he says more respectfully, shaking my father's hand; Flint is fully aware that my father doesn't approve of the way his parents have raised him- they have told him to train _just in case_, but they simply don't give a damn about the honor brought by winning the Games, and simply want Flint to do whatever he wants with his life. So, in order to avoid being labeled a bad influence, he tries to restrain himself from making his usual witty comments when my whole family is present.

He usually can't.

"Good morning, Flint," my mother replies. "Do you want to join us for breakfast?"

"No, thank you. I already ate." Flint straightens up and starts speaking in a professional tone, making my mother smile- she's much more open-minded than my father. "I'm here to escort your son to the square, along this lovely young lady, who surely cannot be Crystal due to the fact that she's wearing a dress."

"Please don't remind me of that," Crystal snorts.

Flint falls on his knees and stares dramatically at her. "Please, Stranger-who-looks-like-Crystal, do not be offended! My only intention was to point out how beautiful you l-"

"Dude," I cut off. "She's thirteen. And my parents are here."

"Oh, Flint's only joking," my mother says casually, but with a look of warning- not because she thinks he has gone too far, I suppose, but because the wrinkle between my father's eyebrows has grown deeper. "Isn't he?"

"Sure, Mrs. G," Flint says, causing me to smack the back of his head.

"How are your parents doing?" asks my mother, who has managed not only to change subjects but also to magically summon another plate of pancakes, which she is now handing to Flint- who, of course, can't say no. "Will they be attending the reaping this year or will they watch it at home?"

"They're doing great," he replies, calmly eating a bit of pancake. I stare nervously at the clock- I can't be late. Not today. "They were still asleep when I left." He casts a careful glance towards my father and adds, "But I'm sure they will be there."

"Oh well, if they decide to stay at home, tell your mother I said hi." My mother turns to me and sighs when she catches me still staring at the clock. "What is it, Marvel? Is there something you'd want to tell us?"

"Ididawantoinderrup," I say with my mouth half-full.

"Dumbass," Crystal whispers, as my mother gives me a dangerous glare.

"I didn't want to interrupt," I answer, after swallowing my pancake. "But it's getting late. We should be going."

"We still have an hour," Crystal protests.

"Well, I'm going anyway," I insist, getting up. "Are you coming or not?"

"Do we have a choice?" Flint asks with his back turned to me, as he puts his plate in the dishwasher.

"You do, but she doesn't. Come on, Crys."

My mother stops me before I manage to get to the kitchen door. "Good luck," she mutters, patting my hair and fixing my tie before hugging me. "You too," she adds, kissing Crystal on the cheek and waving at Flint.

"See you at the reaping, Mom!" I shout, already by the front door.

Then, we finally get to the streets; even though the reaping will only start in an hour, there is already a small crowd heading towards the square- those are the volunteers, the ones who don't want to miss the best spots; I recognize some of them from the Training Club, since I'm already in the 16-18 year-old class, and that's when they usually volunteer.

I've actually thought about volunteering- when I'm older, of course: the honor, the fame… I bet the Capitol would love me. But if I ever voiced that out loud, my mother would yell at me for an hour straight.

"Hey, Marvy-Boy," Flint calls from behind me, as I stride along the streets. "Are you lost? The square is _that_ way."

I turn around for a second, before speeding up again. "I know, but I need to go somewhere first."

I can practically hear Crystal digging her heels on the ground. "_No_!" she whines. "I'm not going!"

"Yes you are," I say, dragging her by the wrist. "Mom said you had to come with me."

"With you, not _her_! Flint, help me!" she pleads.

"Sorry, I'm going to have to keep my mouth shut in this," he says. "Although I must confess I feel deceived…"

I shoot him a dirty look, just as we get to a two-storied white house. "You make another smart-ass comment like that and I'll bury my fist in your mouth. This goes for both of you." Ignoring Flint's frown and Crystal's red face, I ring the bell.

A second later, a girl with white-blonde hair and blue eyes bursts through the door and slams me against the nearest wall. "Good morning, handsome," Ruby purrs, before we engage in the morning make-out session, ignoring Crystals's screams of _Oh, COME. ON!_

Ruby and I have been going out for about four months, but it only became official three weeks ago. We met at school, and everyone instantly said we should become a couple- District 1's golden couple; so, after she fell madly in love with me and chased me for two months- okay, maybe I made some of the chasing- we finally began a relationship. However, _some people_- who shall remain unnamed- seem to think that Ruby's efforts to become a bigger part of my life, which include taking my dear little sister out to dinner so they could have some bonding time, are worthless.

Suddenly, Ruby pulls away from me with a sucking sound and breathes in sharply. "Marvy-pie, what is _this_?" she asks coldly, tugging on my tie.

"Uh… it's a tie?" I say cautiously, still hoping to get some more lip action before Flint and Crystal start freaking out.

"I know it's a tie. But it's _blue_!"

"So?" I ask, not following her logic.

"I specifically told you I would be wearing _red_! You were supposed to get a red tie! Now I will look like an idiot!"

I forgot to mention Ruby takes her name _very_ seriously- she is never seen without at least one red piece of clothing or accessory, and she almost always wears red lipstick- which she somehow manages to get on my face and neck, but never gets smudged around her lips.

"I'm sorry!" I say quickly. "But my mother picked it- and I don't think I even _own_ a red tie."

Ruby places her hands on her hips. "You could have bought one, you know? Besides, aren't you old enough to pick your own clothes?"

"I forgot to tell her." I pull Ruby closer by the waist. "But really, what's the difference? You won't even be standing next to me- much to my dismay."

"Okay, I may be overreacting," she chuckles, her expression softening. Then she raises one of her eyebrows. "But let's be honest, Marvy-pie – you're kind of a mommy's boy. Next time I'll have to write her a note so she can know the color of my dress beforehand."

"Uh… I don't think she'll like that," I say, rubbing my neck. "I'll just buy a red tie, okay?"

"Are you coming or not?" Crystal shouts impatiently.

"Crystal!" Ruby hops from the front porch and quickly walks across her well-tended garden, stopping right in front of Crystal and clapping her hands together. "You look dashing! It's great seeing you wearing a dress… You know, for a change."

"Thank you," I hear Crystal grumble when I join them.

"I couldn't believe my eyes when you showed up for dinner in jeans!" Ruby laughs. "You're just like…" She turns around, looking for Flint. "You're just like Flint here!"

"Is that a bad thing?" he asks, cracking up a half-smile.

"Of course not." Ruby eyes him from head to toe. "You have this type of… careless style. It looks _great_ on you."

"Shall we go?" I interrupt, before Flint begins a lecture about the punk movement, or whatever ancient music style he's studying right now. I hold my hand out to Ruby and she takes it gladly, seemingly forgetting about my sister and best friend. I take this opportunity to cast a glance at her, wondering if she has been spending too much time in the Capitol- her father is a famous chef who has cooked for President Snow himself, and he usually takes his family along for Games season.

Just as we're leaving Ruby's street, we run into my friend Jett and his girlfriend, Ariana; I feel Ruby stiffen next to me when she notices his tie matches Ariana's lavender dress, but she doesn't say anything. Shortly after, we meet up with the rest of our group, which consists of Jasper- looking uncomfortable in a grey suit- and Eric, who's convinced he's a natural ladies man and rushes to kiss the back of Ruby and Ariana's hands in a poor imitation of Caesar Flickerman.

"Eric, get your own girlfriend," I utter, when he holds on to Ruby's hand a little longer than he should; I tilt my head towards a group of oblivious girls. "Speaking of which… I think those girls over there were checking you out."

Eric combs his hair back with his hands and fixes his jacket before walking confidently towards the girls, who have no idea they are about to face at least half an hour- if he doesn't decide to follow one of them home- of clumsy flirting and bad taste pick-up lines. "Why did you do that?" Flint asks, sounding annoyed. "You know the guy is kind of a creep. Those poor girls won't even have where to run from him."

I shrug. "Sooner or later one of them will lose her temper." Right on cue, a slapping sound echoes through the square, and a very sheepish-looking Eric walks back with a red hand marked on his face. "You, on the other hand, should give them a try…"

"Nah," Flint dismisses, eyeing Ruby, who is clinging to my arm a bit tighter than normal and still pouting at Jett and Ariana's matching outfits. "I think I'll stay in bachelor-land for a little longer."

"Well, it's your loss," Ruby cuts off cheerfully, seizing the opportunity to show my friends how steady we are as a couple by kissing me right in front of them. "Isn't it, Marvy-pie?"

"Uh… of course," I say, a little embarrassed that she's using that nickname in public- causing Crystal to turn around and make very realistic gagging sounds. Unfortunately, Ruby hears them and knits her eyebrows together. "Excuse me for a moment," I say, before seizing Crystal's arm and dragging her out of Ruby's hearing range. "Would you stop it?" I ask angrily. "You're making Ruby upset!"

"She got upset because _your tie didn't match her dress_," Crystal spits. "Seriously, what do you even _see_ in her? She's a control freak, and completely clueless!"

"You're thirteen, I'm not going to explain it to you."

"Oh," she says with a sly smile. "I see…"

_Shit, wrong choice of words._

"No, not that! I mean…" I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Just mind your own business."

"Then don't force me to pretend I want to be her friend." Crystal spins on her heels and heads towards the thirteen-year-old girls area, which is filled with giggling girls: they couldn't be more different from her, with their identical lacy pink dresses and fluttering eyelashes- some of them directed at me. This definitely ends the conversation.

I sigh and grumpily join Eric and Jasper in our designated area. They're the only ones there, so I suppose Flint and Jett have already headed to the seventeen-year-old boys' line, while Ruby and Ariana probably did the same and are now comparing dresses with the other sixteen-year-old girls.

I don't pay attention to the mayor's speech- it's the fifth time I'm hearing it, anyway. I'm too busy brooding on my little sister's latest fit, and how sometimes I find myself feeling as if I really hate her, even though I know that's not true.

I'm so caught up in this that I don't even hear the list of past victors, which is one of my favorite parts- our list may not be as big as District 2's, but it's definitely longer than most districts'; however, I recognize this year's mentors, Silver and Cheryl, both in their forties. I remember watching the tapes of their editions of the Games, so I know whoever is picked this year is in good hands.

Our escort, Marcus Whitman, steps to the center of the stage when the mayor is finally done with his speech: Marcus is a bald, seemingly non-aging man, entirely covered in tattoos and owner of what Ruby has told me to be called 'elven ears'. He's been District 1's escort for the past fifteen years, and doesn't seem eager to lose such a prestigious spot just yet. "Good morning, District One," he greets in his deep voice, which I always thought sounded strange due to the Capitol accent. "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!"

Marcus approaches one of the glass balls, closer to the girls' side of the square, and I don't even have to crane my neck to see what's happening, since I tower over most of the other boys. "Now, without any more delays, shall we pick the female tribute for the 73rd annual Hunger Games?" He dives his hand in the glass ball, teasingly brushing his fingers against some paper slips, without actually seizing them.

I straighten up when Marcus finally grabs the name of this year's girl tribute; I'm filled with anticipation- I may have a girlfriend, but District 1 has the hottest girl tributes and I always end up cheering for them. He unfolds the slip and…

"Crystal Gould!"

The words don't sink in right away, but when they do, I don't feel proud like I expected I would if this happened- Crystal is being given the chance of winning the Hunger Games, after all. Instead, I feel my brain freeze with panic, and I can only watch as my sister- my _thirteen-year-old_ sister- calmly joins Marcus onstage and shakes his hand, happily waving and beaming at the cameras. She has no idea that no matter how tall and athletic she is, her way-too-short dress and her round face make her look like an overgrown child.

And that's exactly what she is.

There's an agonizing fraction of second in which I see Crystal being slaughtered in every way possible before a loud voice cries, "I volunteer!"

My eyes immediately drift to the eighteen-year-old girls' section, looking anxiously for Crystal's replacement- just as the most frightening girl I have ever seen strides towards the stage. She's tall- and I mean _really_ tall; the top of Crystal's head doesn't even reach her chin- and built like an Amazon, with long light brown hair and blue highlights. Eric is gaping at her in awe, probably unsure if he should be impressed or scared. I don't blame him- I bet that she could easily snap him in half if he even tried to come close to her. Hell, she seems capable to snap _me_ in half, and I'm not exactly scrawny!

Whatever might be my feelings towards the appearance of the girl- who presents herself to a very surprised Marcus as Sapphire May (thus the blue highlights- she seems to have a lot in common with Ruby), they are nothing compared to the relief of knowing my sister is safe for now. I get an urge to thank Sapphire, and Eric's complaints that she is not hot enough make me want to punch him in the face.

Marcus shoves his microphone under Crystal's nose. "So what do you say, dear? Will you let Sapphire here take your place?"

Crystal's eyes shift from one face to another as she eyes the crowd hesitantly, and I'm suddenly filled by dread once again. I know what she's thinking. She thinks she's strong enough to win the Games.

She is going to say no.

I close my eyes. _Please say yes, please say yes._

Crystal opens her mouth to reply, but before she manages to, a piercing scream reverberates through the square. Every single head turns to see where it came from, but I take my time because I know exactly who made that sound.

My mother, always so calm and cheerful, is leaning against my father for support, with tears running down her cheeks, while Jem takes her hand and gapes at the stage. My father just looks slightly annoyed and embarrassed.

"Get her out of there! Garnet, please get my little girl off that stage!" my mother begs.

"Come on, _little girl_," Sapphire says encouragingly, loud enough for the entire square to hear. "Go to your mommy and let the grown-ups take care of this."

Crystal frowns and gets ready to shoot one of her comebacks- undoubtedly something about Sapphire's _mommy_-, but my father finally decides to do what my mother said and pushes through the crowd; the Peacekeepers don't even try to stop him, since it would be useless to. District 1 already has its female tribute.

"Let's go, Crystal," my father says quietly. However, the square has fallen silent, so he is perfectly audible.

"But…" she stammers, casting one last furious glance at Sapphire, who just laughs and waves her hand dismissingly, shooing Crystal offstage.

"Sometimes children need to be taught their place," Sapphire says lightly. Regardless of how she put it, I couldn't agree more.

Of course I nearly forget about how she avoided Crystal's certain death when the crowd bursts into mocking laughter, while my father drags a red-faced Crystal away; I even see Jasper and Eric shifting uncomfortably, as if being seen with me has suddenly become socially unacceptable.

"Now, now," Marcus hushes, but to no avail: the audience is still laughing, and I can already see a mix of pitiful and scornful looks being shot at me, as soon as I'm recognized as Crystal's older brother; I have to fight back the urge to start a fight right here and wipe those grins off their faces. "Please settle down so we can select our male tribute!" Marcus practically shouts.

When the sound of laughter finally dies, and the square is filled with murmurs instead, Marcus dives his hand inside the other glass ball, this time seizing the first paper slip he touches- I bet he can't wait to return to the Capitol; this reaping has been a disaster, especially by District 1 standards- and calls a boy named Zeke Orel, who is not as tall as Sapphire but makes up for it by being twice as wide as her, and visibly tries to break her hand when they are told to greet each other.

Once the reaping is over and the crowd disperses, I glance around, looking for my friends: Jasper and Eric have managed to disappear without me noticing it, and my family is nowhere in sight.

I'm also unable to find Ruby.

"Marvel!" I turn around to see Ariana walking quickly towards me, teetering a bit on her absurdly high heels and dragging Jett by his hand. Flint is behind them, with his hands in his pockets and looking grim. "Ruby asked me to tell you," Ariana pants, "That she had to go home because her family is leaving for the Capitol. She's really sorry she couldn't say goodbye, but she said she will call you as soon as she returns."

"Thank you," I grumble, gluing my eyes to the ground and frowning. Not even my own girlfriend wants to be seen with me- and I must confess I don't blame her.

" Look…" Ariana says hesitantly. "We're glad your sister didn't have to go in the Games." She elbows her boyfriend. "Aren't we, Jett?"

"Of course," he says, and even though he looks uncomfortable, he sounds sincere- Jett is not the most communicative one in our group, so he usually only speaks when he has something truly important to say. "She's too young anyway. And you'll see no one will remember this once Sapphire and Zeke get in the arena." Jett pats me on the back and begins to walk away. "I hope your mother is okay. Tell her we said hi."

"Sure. See ya," I say. Jett raises his hand with his back turned to me, his usual way to say goodbye, and Ariana waves her fingers at me.

"What the fuck was that all about?" Flint blurts out once they are gone. Judging from the rage he imprints in the words, I'd say he's been holding them in for a while.

"What? Them?" I ask. "At least they didn't run away from me."

"No, I'm talking about pretty much everyone that was here today," Flint explains, still sounding pissed off. "Crystal is just a child. Your mother had every right to freak out. Just because _their_ mothers dropped them in the Training Club as soon as they stopped shitting their own pants, that doesn't mean you should have a crappy mom as well!"

"_I _started training when I stopped shitting my own pants," I point out, finally managing to smile.

"You know what I mean," he says lightly. "Anyway, thank goodness your sister won't have to go against that Zeke guy. He trains with me and gives me the creeps." Flint shivers exaggeratedly to mark his words.

I laugh, temporarily forgetting about everything that happened earlier. "I'm sure sweet little Sapphire can take care of it. I swear she's scarier than him."

"Imagine you were sleeping in the woods… everything was dark and suddenly you woke up with her staring at you and calling you Marvy-pie," Flint whispers mockingly.

"Uh-oh. It seems I was signed into the Training Club too early."

"Why?"

"Because I just shat my pants."

* * *

My good mood doesn't last long. When I get home, Crystal is locked in her room and my mother is cooking, but from the way she's standing, with her head ducked, I can tell she's upset. Same goes for my father, whose white knuckles tell me he's holding the newspaper a little tighter than he should. Without bothering to talk to any of them, I dart upstairs towards my room.

Things only get worse in the following weeks. Even though my mother and Crystal seem to have forgotten the incident, the wrinkle on my father's forehead becomes gradually more pronounced as Sapphire proves herself to be unstoppable, especially after Zeke is killed in a stampede of buffalo mutts. She's without a doubt the strongest tribute, killing easily and mercilessly, and in no time she earns the crown.

The moment Sapphire is announced as the victor, my father gets up from the couch without a word and strides towards his office, slamming the door behind him. My mother hesitates but ends up running after him. My two siblings and I remain exactly where they have left us- I'm lying on the couch with Crystal next to me, and Jem is sitting on the floor, playing with his toy cars in front of the TV-, gaping at the door. There's a moment of quietness, in which all we hear are hushed voices.

Then my father starts yelling.

"All that I'm saying is that you didn't have to embarrass our entire family just to get Crystal off the stage!"

"I'm _sorry_ if I panicked!" My mother's voice breaks and I realize she's started crying. I straighten up when a terrified-looking Jem leaves his playing spot and jumps onto my lap, hiding his small face in my chest. "I just wouldn't bear to see my little girl die the way my sister did… And Sapphire won, our district has a victor! I don't know why you are getting so worked up over something that happened weeks ago! What's your problem?!"

"You want to know what my _problem_ is?"

"Yes, please!"

"Very well." My father pauses, and I glance at Crystal for a moment; her tear-filled eyes are glued to the door, and she's wrapped her arms around her knees. She's understood where our father is getting. "You see our children? I've spent a _fortune _on that Training Club so they would have the same chances I did. Why do you think they go there every day? So they can join the circus? No. They are training to be _winners_! Or they would be, if you weren't always getting in their way!"

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"Just look at the television! That could have been our daughter! We could have had a victor in the family!"

"She's _thirteen_!" my mother shrieks.

"She's strong enough! She's a Career, just like we were- trained to kill!"

"Please don't use that word like you're trying to turn my children into murderers! They're still so young-"

"Are you blind? Are you aware of what Marvel can do with a spear? Once he stops wasting his time chasing after girls, he will be ready to volunteer! Or are you going to take that away from him?"

I shift uncomfortably, with Jem still clinging to me. Crystal keeps crying, so I wrap one of my arms around her, as we wait for our parents' argument to end.

"It's _their_ choice to volunteer, not yours!" my mother sobs. "You can't force them to just because you're frustrated you never got your chance!"

"I'm not frustrated-"

"Yes you are! And now you want to risk the life of your own children just so you can brag to your friends! Why do you care so much about what other people think?"

"Perhaps because you made us the laughingstock of the whole district!"

There's a loud noise, and a second later my mother storms out of the office. "Marvel," she says faintly, wiping the tears off her eyes and making a not-so-obvious attempt at pretending nothing's wrong. "It's past Jem's bedtime. Could you please-?"

"Sure, Mom," I say, still a bit shaken by what has just happened. "Hey buddy, it's time for bed. Do you want me to read you a story?" I ask, turning to Jem. He just nods in response.

"Crystal," My mother bends down and kisses Crystal's forehead. "I want you to know that I love you, no matter what. Okay?"

"Okay," she says weakly, as she watches my mother disappear upstairs. "This is all my fault," Crystal whispers. "If I had gone in Sapphire's place, none of this would have happened." She gets up. "I'm going to tell Dad that I'll volunteer next year."

"No, you're not," I say harshly. "It would break Mom's heart, after all she went through for you. Besides, what makes you think fourteen is a better age than thirteen?"

Crystal's shoulders drop in defeat. "I just want them to stop fighting," she blurts out.

"You don't need to volunteer for that," I assure, even though I know it's not true.

My father won't rest until one of his children is a victor.

* * *

The music is too loud; the lights are too bright. Somewhere, an annoying kid begs his parents for another ride in the carousel. The air is impregnated with a scent that is a mix of barbecue, popcorn and cotton candy, something I usually enjoy, but that right now is making me nauseous.

Every time one of our tributes wins the Games, District 1 throws a huge party in the streets, complete with food, diversions, street performers, the whole shit: it's basically an excuse for kids to play and for adults to get drunk. Usually, I would be wandering around, taking the opportunity that there's free beer and a rollercoaster, but I'm not really in the mood- my parents are still not talking to each other, and Crystal blames herself. I don't even know why I came here.

Oh, that's right. Ruby.

"And then… you won't believe it," she chirps, carefully taking pieces off her cotton candy with her perfectly manicured fingers. "Glimmer _actually_ had the nerve to come to me apologizing for not having invited me… _after _the party was over!"

"That's great," I grumble, too lost in my own thoughts to pay attention for any longer than the time it takes me to ask myself, _Who the heck is Glimmer?_

"She was like, _Look, I'm really sorry that I didn't invite you… but I honestly had no idea who you were until yesterday._ As if that's possible!" I gawk at Ruby, suddenly realizing she really _does_ spend too much time in the Capitol. She stares back at me eagerly , and even though I'm aware that she's expecting me to agree with her, my mother and sister's tears keep popping back into my mind, blocking any other thoughts; so I just choose to mumble something incoherent, hoping she won't notice I really don't care about Glimmer's stupid party.

She does.

"Marvy-pie, are you even _listening_ to me?" Ruby asks in a cold, shrill voice that I had never noticed she uses quite frequently.

"O-of course I am," I stammer, straightening up on my seat. "You were saying that a girl who didn't know you didn't invite you to her party." I frown. "Wait, that doesn't make sense. Why would she invite you?" Ruby's face turns the same color as her lipstick, and I begin to panic. "No! You're right! She was very rude!"

"You _weren't _listening!" she shrieks, widening her eyes at me. "Oh my God, is it too much of me to ask for my boyfriend to pay attention to me for two minutes straight after I was gone for three weeks?!"

"I'm sorry. I just have a lot to think about." Ruby keeps giving me an icy stare, so I add hurtfully, "It's not like you even bothered to say goodbye before you left."

This seems to infuriate her even more. "You know I had no choice!" Ruby cries, this time so loud that some people around us turn their heads, alarmed. "Especially after-" she stops mid-sentence and suddenly seems to calm down.

"Especially after what?" I ask, fearing the answer.

"Well…" Ruby has changed, in a matter of seconds, from anger to embarrassment. "After your mother made an unnecessary fuss over your Crystal being picked, my parents practically dragged me from the square and told me I should stop seeing you." I run my hand through my hair in frustration, suddenly picturing Ruby's father choking on one of his _filet mignons_. "I told them that I would do it. But of course I was lying!" She laughs nervously.

"My mother didn't _make an unnecessary fuss_," I say blankly, trying to hide that now I'm getting really angry.

Ruby doesn't seem to realize this, though. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but she kinda did," she insists. "Your sister was perfectly safe, for God's sake! I felt really sorry for all of you- especially your father and Crystal. To be exposed like that…"

I blink at her. _Please don't say anything you might regret later._

"I'm only saying this," Ruby goes on, reaching out her hand to me. "Because I care about you, Marvy-pie. Maybe if you talked to your mother…"

"She didn't do anything wrong," I cut off coldly.

"Ruby chuckles. "Right," she says, not without some sarcasm. "Like I was saying, if you would just _talk_ to her…"

It's Ruby's disbelief and insistence that finally makes me realize something I should have anticipated- no matter how seemingly suited for me, or good-looking she is, Ruby's not the girl for me. She tried, though, and I really appreciate it, but I'm not the boy for her either. She needs someone who actually cares about things such as matching ties and dresses, and doesn't embarrass her in public.

"Ruby," I say, as gently as I can, refusing to take her hand. "I think your parents are right- you should stop seeing me."

She inhales deeply, and I prepare myself for the worst- this is the bad part of dating a girl like Ruby, who's used to getting everything she wants. "_What?!_"

"I'm sorry, but what you are looking for in a guy… I just can't give you that. You're wasting your time."

"It's because of your family, isn't it?" she asks, on the verge of tears.

"No, it's not," I say sincerely. "I'm _really_ sorry."

"B-but… I love you!"

"No, you don't." I get up from my chair. "Trust me."

Then I do the stupidest thing I could do in this situation- I turn around and walk away.

* * *

Holy shit. Thank goodness the streets are empty- and even if I run into someone while I do the walk of shame back home, I'm hoping that the darkness hides the red mark on my cheek. But still, it burns like _hell_.

Ruby had every right to get up from her seat and slap me, I admit it- I acted like a total asshole. But she didn't have to do it in front of everyone, just before shrieking how much she hated me- apparently it's not a problem when she is the one to make a fuss.

I deserved it. Now I'm a guy with a broken family, no friends and no girlfriend- that's just great. The definition of _perfect_.

_Once he stops wasting his time chasing after girls, he will be ready to volunteer._

The gravel pavement cracks under my shoes when I suddenly stop on my tracks. How could I be so dense? There _is_ a way out of my problems- it will bring my family back together, save Crystal from her burden, my friends will come back… and even if it keeps me too busy to get another girlfriend, I don't really care. I will need all my focus, but I'm sure I'll be having tons of pursuers anyway.

Someone taps my shoulder; I turn around quickly, fearing Ruby might have chased me to finish what she started, but I'm relieved to see Flint's face instead. "Oh, it's you," I say tonelessly.

"Expecting someone else?" he laughs, but then his eyes fall upon my face. "You look like shit! What happened?"

"'Broke up with Ruby," I reply simply.

Flint shakes his head pitifully. "So _that_'s why she was screaming. I thought she was possessed."

I snort. "I wouldn't be surprised if she was. Everyone was staring, as if what happened at the reaping wasn't enough."

"Marvy-Boy, Marvy-Boy," Flint says with feigned exasperation, mockingly placing his hands on his hips. "You _never _break up with a girl in a public place, no matter how desperate you are to get rid of her. Spit it out- what did she do?"

"Nothing in particular," I reply, as we begin walking again. "I guess… I just didn't like her as much as I thought. And in some way, what happened with my family opened my eyes."

"I see," he says sympathetically, and I don't need to elaborate- Flint has understood everything. "How's Crystal? And your mother?"

"They're fine," I grumble. "But Crystal is still convinced she should have gone into the arena." Flint doesn't say anything. "I've made a decision," I blurt out, when we reach my front door. "I was going to inform my family first, but I'd like you to be there too."

"Dude, are you alright?" Flint asks suspiciously. "You look a bit… out of your mind. Like you're about to do something _really _stupid."

"Of course I am alright," I snarl, opening the door. "And it's not stupid, I guarantee you. Ladies first," I mock, letting the door open for him.

My family is gathered in the living room- their way of pretending that nothing's wrong, even though none of them move or even speak to each other-, and when I see the now always-present sadness on my mother's eyes I begin to wonder if this is the right thing to do. She will be angry. Maybe she will even cry some more.

But I can't back down now.

I clear my throat, and four sets of eyes turn to me, while Flint snorts. "I have something to tell all of you." I smile confidently- the same smile that has gotten me out of trouble countless times, and that will be useful in the future. "I decided I'm going to volunteer next year."

Each person in the room has a different reaction- Flint's jaw drops, Crystal widens her eyes in disbelief, Jem starts jumping up and down and punching the air while making fighting noises, and my mother turns pale-, but the one that brings me hope that everything will turn out fine is my father's: he gets up and strides towards me, placing his hands on my shoulders and looking at me with an expression of utter happiness.

"Marvel, are you sure?" he asks, clearly hoping the answer is yes.

I nod. "I will start training extra hard tomorrow," I inform proudly. "And I will take care of any possible competition."

"My son… a victor," my father whispers dreamily. "Lacey," he calls, turning to my mother and seemingly forgetting all about these past few weeks. "Our son wants to be a tribute. _Our son_!"

My mother opens her mouth- to say she looks surprised would be an understatement-, but I shoot her a meaningful look. _Dad is talking to you, _I try to say with my eyes, and feeling triumphant that he's doing so. "That's… that's great," she says instead, and I let out a relieved sigh.

Then, much to my surprise, I see a blonde ponytail waving under my nose, as Crystal hugs me tightly. "Thank you, Marv," she whispers, so low that no one but me can hear it- especially now that my father has started celebrating.

I smile down at her, and suddenly it _really_ dawns on me- I may have brought my family together, but in reality I'm accomplishing something that deep down I've always wanted to do. My motives aren't so selfless after all.

But I don't care. I can do it- I've trained, and I'm going to win.

Marvel Gould, victor of the 74th Hunger Games. How does that sound?


End file.
